A Few Possibilities
by Another Writer Who Loves
Summary: "You're as close to a seasoned witch as we've got in this lot." She can't help but think what might've been. How a relationship with Samuel would have been if they had met in different circumstances. There are a million and one different possibilities that she could think of right off the bat. 15x03 Spoilers


"You're as close to a seasoned witch as we've got in this lot."

Her mind can't help but wander despite her attempts to focus on the task on hand. The owl skull grows warm in her hands as she kept holding it, staring unseeing at the golden bowl in front of her.

She can't help but think what might've been. How a relationship with Samuel would have been if they had met in different circumstances. There are a million and one different possibilities that she could think of right off the bat.

She meant what she said, he was the closest being to a witch in this little rag tag group of theirs but at the same time...he had the potential. She could feel it and sense it curling under his skin, a core at the center of his being pulsating with a different kind of magic.

He suppressed it and he ignored it but it was still there, it was still existing and she knew that if he had tried even just a little bit, he could access it and use it to his advantage. It was a tiny bit terrifying, he had all that power and no real control over it. But at the same time it was just a touch exciting.

She would've loved to be the one to teach him. She would've loved to be the one guiding his hand, he wouldn't need help with the words, languages came easily to him and even now as he studied her own self made spell he was doing quite well with it.

He would learn fast, she knew that he would.

And it would be wonderful to properly cast magic with him, a merging of both of their magics opening up so many new doors that were still closed to her. The ultimate partnership of witches as they manage the spellwork.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, wishing that Dean had left his flask for her to take another drink. She already knew that she needed another drink but tried to focus instead.

She couldn't help but glance at Sam once more, he was slowly moving around the crypt, intensely reading over her notes but sometimes he'd still look up towards the door, maybe hoping that Dean would come back inside even for a moment.

He would've made an excellent apprentice, maybe that's how they could've met back in her youth before she stopped aging. Back when she had first been enough of a witch to warrant an apprentice he would've approached her for help and guidance. Most likely it would've had something to do with his brother being in some sort of trouble and him being willing to do whatever it takes to get him back.

Rowena smiled, putting that thought away for a moment. She knew that last part would be good for something later.

That asking to be an apprentice could also go quite a few different ways. Either he'd make a passionate plea, begging for her help and her guidance.

Or he'd have a silver knife pressed against her throat and threatening her with magic crackling around him to teach him what she knew or else she'd be dead.

Regardless of how he'd asked, she would've said yes of course, how would she be able to pass such an opportunity up? A powerful warlock on her side and in her debt as an apprentice would be to the master, it would be too good to ignore.

She doubted that she would've met him in a coven of others, he wasn't the type to join others like him regardless of where he stood. Oh he would help, he would lend his power and his knowledge to help and give everything that he had.

But at the end of the day, he preferred to be away from the prying eyes of others, content to be in that bunker with his brother and she doubted if that would change.

He also wasn't the type to join in orgies so the winter solstice orgies was also out. A tad disappointing if she did say so.

Or maybe some other methods bringing them together. A more fitting one of witch verses a hunter. Or hunter saving a witch.

Thousands and thousands of possibilities, all of which ultimately, lead her to the same place.

But regardless of how they met, she knew how it would always exactly end. She knew the last scene in her book and despite it, it made her smile.

If her death came at the hands of Sam Winchester she knew that it would be done for the better. Her life had been one of selfishness and sacrificing others in the name of her own.

It wasn't much, it didn't erase or make anything she did redeemed. One good act in a long list of bad, it meant nothing.

She smiled and carefully placed the skull into the bowl, her fingers stroking over the bone for a moment before she looked up at Sam who was reading her notes diligently.

She would leave everything to him, all her notes, the book of the damned, everything she had, it was left to him once she was no more. She knew that he would find a way to put it to good use.

To die at the hands of Sam, a boy, a man that she loved in one way or another. To die at the hands of Sam and doing something right. To die at the hands of Sam and helping him achieve his goals.

There was no better way to go.

**I do not own Supernatural. **

**289/365**

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